


soft breaths, beating hearts

by verflixt



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Blood Kink, F/F, F/M, Foursome - F/F/M/M, Gore, It's the Briarwoods extrapolate accordingly, M/M, Multi, Murder, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vampires, the murder isn't consensual but the sex is if it makes you feel better?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-06 21:12:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17947217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verflixt/pseuds/verflixt
Summary: Delilah sighs internally, then raises two fingers to her mouth in a V, darting her tongue out between them before once again smiling beguilingly. The man lets out a choked cough of surprise; the woman giggles nervously, eyes darting between Delilah and Sylas, then back to her companion. Delilah leans back, satisfied that her meaning has finally been grasped. She does not break her gaze as the Elvish woman leans up to whisper urgently into the ear of the man beside her.The couple glance at each other once more before the woman begins to rise, gathering her cloak in her arms. The man hurriedly begins to dig into his pockets, gesturing for a waiter. He begins to go through the motions of paying their tab, still casting disbelieving glances at Delilah and Sylas.Delilah shares a conspiratorial look with Sylas before pulling her coat closed around her once more; Sylas stands, and she takes his arm. The two sweep out of the hall together, not glancing back, returning to their carriage to wait for their guests for the night to follow.__________________Delilah and Sylas find themselves idle in the city of Nicodranas, then find themselves some entertainment.





	soft breaths, beating hearts

Delilah has never been one to attend concerts, but even she has to appreciate the ambience– the intimacy, even– of the space she finds herself in. It is not that the hall is crowded. The Lavish Chateau, Delilah gathers, this is not the type of establishment that has to worry about funding itself through performances alone. No, it is the deliberately muted glow of the candlelight, the understated but luxurious furnishings, the warm and generous acoustics, and yes, the peerless and almost mesmerizing skill of the performer herself that creates such a unique atmosphere.

Delilah eyes the crimson-skinned tiefling woman appreciatively, fascinated with the working of the vulnerable expanse of her throat as she sings. She is wondering idly if this _Ruby of the Sea_ accepts clients in pairs as she feels the gentle touch of Sylas’s hand calling her attention.

She turns to her husband, who is not watching the Ruby of the Sea, but rather something in the audience. Delilah follows his gaze and sees another couple seated a few tables away. She tips her head in interest. They are well-dressed for an evening of cultured entertainment, but not so finely as to suggest nobility; traveling merchants, Delilah would guess, their cloaks too heavy for the temperate coastal weather of Nicodranas and the deep blue of the woman’s dress too somber to truly fit in. 

The woman is of Elvish descent, long dark hair and a sharp chin matched by elegant cheekbones. Her eyes glitter in the light as they follow the singer’s gestures, her expression is a mix of fascination and delight. Certainly to Sylas’s taste. The blond man beside her is less interesting, stolid, almost bored in the way he lounges back in his seat, a perfunctory arm draped around the shoulders of his companion. Still, not unacceptable.

The man is the first to notice Delilah and Sylas’s eyes on them. He frowns a little, pausing with his glass raised halfway to his lips. Delilah smiles, then winks. Sylas turns back towards Delilah, slowly unbuttoning her coat as she holds the man’s confused stare. His eyes remain blank and searching even as Sylas tugs at the now-loose fabric, baring Delilah’s shoulder and the corset beneath. Delilah licks her lips deliberately as Sylas begins planting delicate kisses against her neck.

The man’s frown deepens, and he sets his drink aside to tap the woman beside him. She turns her head to look at them, confusion and then curiosity flickering across her face. Delilah nods to her, curling an affectionate hand against Sylas’s throat even as she continues to watch the couple. The woman raises a questioning eyebrow, intrigued but uncomprehending. 

Delilah sighs internally, then raises two fingers to her mouth in a V, darting her tongue out between them before once again smiling beguilingly. The man lets out a choked cough of surprise; the woman giggles nervously, eyes darting between Delilah and Sylas, then back to her companion. Delilah leans back, satisfied that her meaning has finally been grasped. She does not break her gaze as the Elvish woman leans up to whisper urgently into the ear of the man beside her. 

The couple glance at each other once more before the woman begins to rise, gathering her cloak in her arms. The man hurriedly begins to dig into his pockets, gesturing for a waiter. He begins to go through the motions of paying their tab, still casting disbelieving glances at Delilah and Sylas. 

Delilah shares a conspiratorial look with Sylas before pulling her coat closed around her once more; Sylas stands, and she takes his arm. The two sweep out of the hall together, not glancing back, returning to their carriage to wait for their guests for the night to follow.

__________________

Delilah gasps instinctively as the last laces of her corset are loosened, eagerly pulling in air.

“Do you want me to stay?” Sylas meets her gaze in the mirror before them. He runs his hands idly over the intricate beadwork still encasing her torso.

Delilah smiles fondly. “No. I wouldn’t want our guests getting into mischief,” she says, hands already busy pulling free the pins from her hair. “Go keep them entertained, would you, darling?”

Sylas nods, but something seems to catch his eye as he turns to go. He stops, then swoops in to press a quick kiss to the side of Delilah’s neck. She inhales with surprise. 

Sylas murmurs, “don’t keep us waiting,” and before she can let out a breathless laugh the door has already swung closed after his passing.

__________________

Long minutes later, Delilah strides into the bedroom. The woman (Elisen? Aloryn?) and her man (Delilah hadn’t even bothered with his name) are already naked, reclined on either side of Sylas on the round, oversized bed. The girl’s hand is splayed on Sylas’s chest and she nuzzles teasingly at his neck, but he looks up the moment he hears Delilah’s heels clicking against the wood floors. Delilah ignores the expressions of their guests– the man, still tinged with disbelief, the woman, eager and hungry– as she shrugs off her robe, dropping it carelessly from one hand to the floor. Instead, she meets Sylas’s gaze, acute and self-assured as always, then accepts his hand as he sits forward to pull her closer and onto the sheets.

Delilah clambers onto the bed, pressing an affectionate kiss to Sylas’s cheek before slipping to his left, between him and the Elvish woman. She takes the woman’s chin in hand, stroking her cheek fondly before leaning forward to kiss her. She responds eagerly, tongue darting out to taste Delilah’s lips as she reaches out to pull Delilah against her. Delilah brushes the cold metal of her rings over the woman’s breast before taking a nipple between her fingers. She shivers, pressing her body tight against Delilah’s.

Delilah pulls back to look into the woman’s eyes, her pupils dilated within deep green irises. The woman rolls onto her back, guiding Delilah to hover over her. Delilah trails a suggestive hand over the woman’s curves, down her body, then finds her slick and ready as she surges forward to claim Delilah’s mouth again. Delilah pets delicately at her folds, still teasing, but can’t help but smile into the kiss as the woman grabs her wrist and angles her fingers to slide easily inside. Delilah indulges her, following the eager movements of her hips and meeting her as she grinds up against Delilah’s fingers.

The elvish woman lets out a shrill whine as her lips are tugged away from Delilah’s. Sylas has chin in one hand, forcing her head to turn towards him. Delilah leans back to enjoy the sight of them kissing, the woman flushed and panting, Sylas calm and thorough as he brushes his tongue into her mouth. The two break apart, and Delilah sighs. 

“I suppose it’s only fair that we share, dearest,” Delilah announces. She meets the elvish woman’s eyes as she lingers a moment longer to lick her fingers clean, winking as her blush only grows deeper. Eventually, however, she leaves the woman to Sylas. She maneuvers herself on the bed– crowded, despite its extravagant size– to attend to their other guest.

Delilah glares down at the human man, gaze haughty and half-lidded even as she settles herself over his hips. Cowed, he traces his hands over Delilah’s ribs, only moving upward to touch her breasts at her nod of approval. Satisfied, Delilah leans down to press her mouth against his neck, kisses more teeth than tongue or lips. 

Delilah makes herself busy biting a patchwork dark bruises against the man’s vulnerable flesh, enjoying the way he squirms. Beside her, she hears slick sounds and the elvish woman’s high-pitched sounds of enjoyment. When she glances over, Sylas has her pinned firmly to the bed, mouth moving leisurely over her core.

Eventually, Delilah leans back to admire her handiwork, and becomes conscious of Sylas’s eyes on her. The two share a glance, and she nods almost imperceptibly. 

Delilah raises her right hand, and with a deft flick unsheathes the tiny knife hidden in her claw ring. She bares her teeth in triumph, then plunges the blade viciously into the neck of the man below her just as she hears the sickening _crunch_ of Sylas’s fangs ripping into vulnerable flesh.

Sudden terror seizes the man’s face, his body convulsing as his hands rise instinctively to clutch at the now-punctured artery. He lets out a horrified, gurgling moan as Delilah laughs, reveling in the spray of gore that splashes her skin and rapidly begins to soak the sheets. She wraps her hands teasingly around his throat before bringing his blood up to her face in cupped hands, taking a mouthful before allowing it to spill through her fingers to coat her chin, then neck, then torso. 

The man’s struggles beneath her grow weaker. Delilah looks down to see consciousness beginning to fade from his eyes– she must have stabbed more clumsily than she had intended. At the edges of her arcane awareness she can feel the threads of his life force beginning to flicker and wane. With a gesture so practiced it’s almost unconscious, she pulls those threads apart, watching the light fade from his eyes as she scatters the essence of his breath and heartbeat to the aether.

Delilah can sense that the woman still clings to life, heartbeat shallow but still fluttering, as Sylas pulls away from her neck. He sits back, and Delilah can’t help but sigh at his expression– beautifully content, almost dazed with satiety. His irises gleam a deep red around blown-out pupils, and his lips are still pulled back to reveal bloodied fangs. He licks his lips absentmindedly before his gaze strays to Delilah. There, his focus sharpens again, eyes tracing the droplets of blood that speckle her face, the handfuls of crimson she had poured onto her neck and breasts now dripping down her body. 

Sylas pulls her into a possessive kiss, licking every trace of her victim from her mouth. He maneuvers her to lie back between the rapidly cooling bodies, then begins eagerly to lap the blood from her chest and stomach. Clawed fingers tease at her hardened nipples, and Delilah lets out a pleased sigh as Sylas’s mouth begins to work its way downward.

He nuzzles at the insides of her thighs, ghosting over the delicate skin with the points of his fangs; Delilah shudders, breath hitching. Finally she feels the flat of his tongue sweep through her folds. He grasps her hips, then yanks her entire body closer to meet his mouth, pressing her tight against his nose and chin. Delilah can feel the flat of Sylas’s teeth as his mouth works against her, voracious and possessive in a way that makes her feel as if he might try to devour her alive. Her hands are becoming tacky with drying blood, but Delilah runs them through Sylas’s hair anyway.

Soon, Delilah feels herself involuntarily begin to tremble and tense against him. “Enough,” she gasps. He still lingers, tongue sweeping insistently over her clit. “Enough,” she repeats, and forces his head away from between her legs. Sylas sits back, scowling as he wipes her slick away from where it coats the lower half of his face.

“I wish you’d let me finish what I started,” he growls.

“I know, my love,” Delilah smiles, taking his chin in one hand to pull him in for a kiss. “But it’s much better with you inside me.” Sylas allows her to silence him briefly, and she tastes herself as his tongue presses eagerly into her mouth. He pulls back after a few moments.

“Like this, perhaps?” He presses two fingers against her cunt, slipping inside easily against her wetness. Delilah feels herself twitch and spasm around him with pleasure, and she lets out a whimper before she can stop herself. Sylas presses and rubs inside her, watching Delilah’s face with fascination as she is momentarily without words.

“No,” Delilah finally manages, pushing Sylas’s hand away from her. She shoves against his broad shoulders. Sylas humors her, settling back on one elbow as she moves to straddle him. She wraps a hand around him.

“So impetuous today,” Delilah glares down at him, the rebuke somewhat softened by the breathlessness in her voice. “Must you always be so headstrong?” As always, Sylas is shameless, bucking his hips into the motion of her hand around his cock.

“Darling.” Sylas’s eyes burn into hers with sudden intensity, equal parts haughtiness and want in the tone of his voice. “If you expect to be satisfied, then you have to take what you want.” 

Abruptly, Sylas takes Delilah’s hips in an iron grasp, then jerks her forward. She feels his tip press against her entrance, and then a desperate, animal sound leaves her as Sylas slips inside, a soft burning stretch as he fills her.

They fall into rhythm easily, Delilah savoring the sensation of him sinking deeper with each thrust. She pauses to settle against him when they are flush against each other again, his cock buried fully inside of her, but Sylas urges her back into motion, guiding her to rock against him. Delilah can’t resist the friction of their movements, grinding shamelessly into Sylas even as she feels the mess between the two of them beginning to drip and coat her thighs. 

Sylas continues to pull her against him, thrusting up to meet her almost violently as he squeezes hard enough for his nails almost to break Delilah’s skin. Delilah breathes out slowly– audibly– through her mouth, enjoying the slick, sloppy sound as Sylas’s cock glides in and out of her with little resistance. With her eyes closed, Delilah feels Sylas press a thumb lightly against her clit, rubbing with a delicacy that contrasts with his intensity otherwise.

Delilah digs her nails into Sylas’s shoulders, shuddering as she begins to clench around him. _Oh_. She feels her walls spasm and pulse around him as she finally tips over the edge. The muscles in her legs clench as Delilah flexes and tenses, eagerly squeezing around Sylas to wring out as much pleasure as she can.

Beneath her Delilah feels Sylas tense and his hips roll, thrusts losing their rhythm and becoming jerky with eagerness. He lets out a wordless, low sound of satisfaction, and Delilah feels a spreading coolness as he finishes. 

Delilah is still pulsing from the aftershocks of her orgasm as she sighs with contentment, leisurely twining her hands at the back of Sylas’s neck. She places a kiss at the corner of his mouth, then nuzzles affectionately at his cheek as she begins to move against him again. 

Sylas shifts beneath Delilah with discomfort, attempting to gently push her away. She doesn’t bother to hold back a giggle as she only grinds down more insistently, snatching his hands away from her body.

“Oh, _no_ , darling,” Delilah purrs, voice rich with smugness. “You’re staying _right here_.” Sylas begins to squirm in earnest, but she brings a hand to wrap around him, keeping his softening cock from slipping out of her.

“What was it you said? If I want to be satisfied, I should take what I want?” Delilah can’t resist the taunt. Sylas glares and opens his mouth to rebut her, but she gives him a warning squeeze and he seems to think better of it. 

“Shhh… you’ve had your way this entire evening, dearest. Let me have mine.” The corners of Sylas’s mouth stay turned downward, but his eyes soften as he acquiesces. A hand rises to stroke gently over Delilah’s hair, now somewhat disheveled, and she leans into his neck. 

It hardly takes long for her second time, and this time she is conscious of Sylas’s lips at her ear, the easing of his breath, the slowing pulse of his normally quiescent heart. Sylas turns her face to his as she finishes again, and she can only open her mouth to his, all sharp teeth and tenderness in his kiss.

They stay intertwined for long moments, until Delilah becomes conscious of the chill of a faint draft against her skin and Sylas’s hand idly stroking at her back. She sighs, finally gathering herself to take in the mess surrounding and covering the two of them.

“Much as I would prefer a bath, my sweet, I suspect we should move along quickly,” Delilah sniffs, already prestidigitating the worst of the grime from her body. “Best we be on our way well before the sun rises.” Sylas nods his agreement, but seems absentminded, his eyes lingering over the corpse of the Elvish woman.

Delilah sighs. “Though I suppose if we must, it’s no great risk to stay in the vicinity one more day.”

__________________

Sylas taps at the front window of the carriage. “Stop here. We will return shortly,” he commands. As they exit the carriage, the driver eyes them, but says nothing, long ago having learned to keep his silence.

Sylas takes Delilah’s gloved hand and leads her, unhesitating, through the darkened forest. They walk for not more than five minutes, the noise of their footsteps rustling through fallen leaves the only sound among the trees. They stop when they reach a mound of loosely packed earth.

The Briarwoods say nothing; after a moment, noticing her shiver, Sylas puts an arm around Delilah’s shoulder, pulling her close. The two hold a silent vigil, Delilah’s soft breath the only disturbance in the otherwise still wood.

Then, unprompted, there is a tremor in the dirt at the couples’ feet. Delilah’s eyes narrow with interest; Sylas is patient and impassive. The soil begins to shift and tremble, muffled sounds of impact and then what might have been splintering wood growing louder and more threatening. 

Finally, a hand thrusts itself free from the earth; then another. With a great heave, head and torso break the surface. Beneath the mud and clay, stringy black hair and the ruins of a deep blue gown reveal themselves. The figure’s eyes are wide open and crazed, glowing an unnatural red, and its mouth hangs open to reveal viciously sharp eyeteeth. It eyes the pair standing over it with wariness and hunger, the remaining air escaping its still lungs with a threatening rattle.

Unruffled, Sylas steps forward.

“Behave yourself.” Sylas glowers forbiddingly, gazing down at the creature. “You’ve already kept us waiting.” For a beat, it seems not to understand, baring its teeth and hissing its disapproval– then, some instinctual recognition kicks in, and it lowers its eyes in reluctant deference.

“Good. Now– follow. Quietly.” Sylas turns to lead the way, once again offering Delilah his arm. She accepts, but turns back to the creature, now stumbled to its feet, where it sways uncertainly.

“Come along, darling,” Delilah says softly. She smiles gently, then takes the girl’s hand. “And welcome to the family.”

**Author's Note:**

> Heavily inspired by that iconic "Tear You Apart" montage from the first episode of AHS: Hotel. Yes this is derivative. Don't @ me.
> 
> Do @ me, however, if you too are still obsessed with the Briarwoods. I'm sure there are more of us out there... somewhere.


End file.
